A Hop, Skip, and a Puddle Jump Away
by Melancholic Misanthrope
Summary: Dean and Sam inadvertantly beam themselves aboard the Daedalus.
1. Chapter 1

A Hop, Skip, and a Puddle Jump Away...

The blood stains on the concrete were still there. Dean struggled to remember the name of the guy the blood belonged to, some poor dumb bastard that had almost gotten his leg blown off trying to break into his dad's storage locker a few years back. Was he the one that died, or was it his buddy? Dean ran a hand over his forehead as he strained his brain trying to remember the details, but truth be told, after a while it was difficult to differentiate one case from another. He could remember the important details: a friggin cursed rabbits foot and Bela trying to sell it off to the highest bidder. All the other details were a bit fuzzy…

He could have asked Sam, he'd know, but why bother? Besides, Dean was still peeved that it was his brothers' photographic memory that had forced him to drive across three states when they were in the middle of a case all in the hopes of finding some super-duper spell book Sam was sure he had seen when they were last here. Dean had tried to point out that nobody could possibly be certain of where they had seen one book in particular, especially after Sam had admitted (once they had crossed state line number two) that he had only seen the book title in passing. Dean was so pissed he almost drove his baby off the road but Sam had promised him that he was pretty sure (really pretty sure) that it was in their dad's storage locker, and if it wasn't Dean got a one free punch, to be delivered – without warning - at a time of his own choosing. Dean smirked at the thought as he wandered aimlessly through his dad's demonic junkyard.

"How's it comin' Sammy?"

"Same as it was five minutes ago."

"Hurry it up, we got a time limit on this hunt. We need to get back to Greenwood by tomorrow night and kill this thing or we gotta wait another five years before it shows up again." Dean paused for a second as he tried to ignore the voice that made him think about whether or not he and Sammy would still be around in five years time, "So you either hurry up and, find this phantom book or we go back and do this thing my way."

"We're not burning the house down Dean!"

"Why not?"

"Because people live in it!"

"Details, details…" he mused as he inspected a dusty shelf of amulets.

"Besides, it's not a guaranteed fix, ok? We need this book because it has the exorcism rite we need to banish it forever, alright? No fire, no more dead bodies."

"Alright, alright…" Dean muttered, embittered as logic and reason defeated simple and effective pyromania yet again, "Just hurry it up. I don't like walking out on a job, leaving that family in that house. We need to get back there."

"I know but we tried to get them to leave but they wouldn't believe us…"

"What a shocker…"

"And we need this book. I told you, I could have taken the car and you could have stayed there and kept and eye on them."

"Like hell I was letting you drive three states away and back in my car!"

"Then stop complaining and help me look!"

Dean sighed and turned in a full circle trying as he thought to himself, _'if I was a dusty old spell book, where would I hide?'_.

His eyes fell upon an old locker, kind of like the ones they had in the numerous high schools he had attended, and decided that was a good place to start - not that he had ever kept books in one, but rumours persisted that other people did. Out of habit he drew his weapon from the back of his jeans and pointed it at the locker as he prepared to open the door. Sam would have had a field day if he had seen it but Dean didn't care too much, the day you stopped thinking things were going to jump out from behind closed doors was the day you stopped wanting to sleep above ground. Dean quickly flicked open the door, his gun darting over each dark corner before he quickly put it away before Sam decided to make fun of him. No surprises behind door number one, just a bunch of ornaments and talisman's, the tame versions of which cluttered new age stores across the country. In the bottom section, leaning against the back wall were a few tools, shovels and things, three swords, a creepy eyed puppet and a broomstick. Dean blinked; _I don't know which is weirder…_

"Hey! I think I found it!" came Sam's voice from the shadows at the back of the locker.

"Great, let's go already…" Dean said as he took a second look inside the metal closet. Something was wrong with this picture – and it wasn't the puppet. Dean reached in and wrapped his fingers around a small rectangular object that was collecting dust on the top shelf. He pulled it out and opened his hand. In a locker full of ancient metal and wood the small plastic rectangle stood out. Dean wiped it against his jeans and picked up his torch from its resting place and examined it. "What the hell…" he whispered as he stared at the weird little… thing. "Hey Sam, check this out."

"What is it?" Sam asked, squeezing his way waste a crate, the musty old spell book clutched in his hands.

"I found this in there," he replied distractedly, pointing in a random direction, "It doesn't really look like it belongs, does it?"

He handed it over to Sam who firstly made sure the book was securely pinned under his arm before he accepted it.

"It looks like a lighter to me. What?" Dean asked off the look Sam gave him.

"Dude, a box of cereal would look like a cigarette lighter to you."

"Shuddup. If you're so smart what do you think it is?"

"It kind of looks like a memory stick…"

"Then plug it in to your computer, see what's on it."

"Dean, I said 'it looks like', not 'it is'. I don't think it comes apart so you can plug it in."

"What about that thing?" Dean asked, pointing to red tip on the plastic piece of weirdness, "If it's not a lid, maybe it's a button."

"No, Dean!" Sam scolded as he tried to fend off his brother and his insatiable need to press buttons, "Don't press it! We don't know what it…"

A blinding flash of white light enveloped the room before fading into nothingness, taking Dean and Sam with it.

***

"Engage hyper drive."

"Hyper drive engaged."

"…does."

***


	2. Chapter 2

***

"…does."

Dean relinquished his grip on the device as the white light faded away, his brain struggling to process what he was now seeing. The dark and dusty storage locker had been replaced with what Dean likened to a sardine can.

"Dude…" Dean finally managed, "What the hell did you do?"

Sam blinked. "What did I do?" he hissed back, "You're the one who had to press the button!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know this would happen…" _Whatever this is_, his thoughts added.

"This thing was in dad's supernatural toxic waste dump; of course something bad was going to happen!"

"How…"

The brothers froze; the sound of heavy boots on metal reached their ears and was moving towards their position. They did their best to press themselves against the wall of the strange metal room and waited.

"I'm beginning to hate these trips," a voice said with a sigh.

"Yeah… three weeks stuck on the Daedalus…" a second voice chuckled.

"I swear… if I get stuck on mop duty again I'm gonna hijack a 302 and get the hell out of here."

"Good luck with that."

"Yeah, thanks."

The two voices laughed together as they passed by the brothers, seemingly unaware of their presence and continued on down the metal hallway. Dean, being closest to the doorway, poked his head out as much as he dared.

"Coast is clear," he confirmed, relaxing somewhat, "Okay… so…" he continued, staring at Sam, waiting for him to fill in the blanks, "What the hell do you think is going on here?"

"Uhh… I have no idea."

"Yeah, well that stupid look on your face suggests that you're thinking something."

"Yeah, well," Sam replied, mimicking his brothers' voice, "what I'm thinking is crazy."

"Sam, crazy is our natural state of being," Dean replied, fidgeting with his gun, "So tell me what you're thinkin' before I start freakin' out."

"Start?"

"Shuddup."

"Alright, well…" Sam said slowly, getting his thoughts in order, "I think… that when you pressed the button… and we were both holding the… thing, that we were teleported somewhere."

"Teleportation? That's your idea?"

"…yeah."

Dean took a minute to digest Sam's answer, his eyes darting between the metal walls and the small plastic stick thing that Sam still had clutched in his hand.

"Okay," he replied finally, "Where to?"

"Judging from the conversation we overheard, the fact that every surface is made of metal… add to it the uniforms those two guys were wearing… my best guess…"

"Yeah…?"

"I think we're on a submarine."

"A submarine?"

"Yeah… maybe."

"Underwater?"

"Well that is the purpose of submarines, Dean."

"Holy crap…" Dean muttered, fending off a panic attack, "so that thing is like some freaky top secret military experiment?"

"Maybe, Dean… I don't know. It's just an idea, but unless you wanna go ask somebody where we are, it's the best I can do. So just stop panicking, hum Metallica or something, and let me think."

Sam started to pace back and forth as Dean crouched down and took several deeps breaths in order to calm himself, the sound of more footsteps approaching their position forced them back into their hiding spots and as the footsteps faded Sam breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back into the middle of the room.

"Alright, first things first… we need to find a better place to hide, a room with a locking door would be an improvement."

Sam peered down the hallways, his mind ticking over with possibilities, and punishments.

"There's an open door about five metres down, on my left. I think that'd be a good place to start."

"Ok…" Dean said, standing up and doing his best to hide his anxiety. He stepped in front of a Sam, gun drawn, and double checked that the coast was clear before stepping out and making his way down the corridor, Mission Impossible style, whilst a bewildered Sam followed close behind.

Sam stood at the entrance and checked his six before a sharp yank on his collar pulled him into the room.

"Dude," his brother hissed, "it's not a room. It's a friggin' adjoining hallway... there's another corridor over here..."

Sam clipped his brother over the head for trying to decapitate him with his own shirt before following him over to the other entrance. The brothers Winchester peered up and down the length of the passageway in search of another open door.

"No more doors..." Sam muttered.

"Alright." Dean said, with a certain amount of confidence back in his voice, "Let's go left."

"No, I think we should go right."

"Why?"

"Because that's the way those two guys came from."

"Exactly why we should go left, or haven't you heard the phrase 'there's more where they came from'?"

"Idiot." Sam muttered with a shake of his head.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Shuddup and follow me."

***


	3. Chapter 3

"Shuddup and follow me." Dean said turning left, gun still firmly grasped in his hands, and walked along the passageway doing his best to stay close to the walls. He turned and saw a reluctant Sam still hovering in the doorway.

"Dude! Would you hurry up!" he hissed before returning to his search for a better hiding place.

Dean followed the corridor as far as it would take him before taking a right, then a left, and then the second left. There was no real organisation to it, it was simply Dean Logic: whatever direction the sound of people was coming from, he went the opposite way. Eventually he came to a submarine equivalent of a crossroad and the sound of bustling, industrious, be-all-you-can be types began to surround them. Dean looked around and considered his options, he could see that Sam was thinking about it too but he was the big brother and, although he would never admit it, this whole thing was kind of his fault and he was gonna get Sam out of this weirdness, come hell or high water, he thought with a sad chuckle.

The sound of boots was coming closer on all sides so Dean made the only decision he could.

"Down."

"What?"

"Go down the ladder Sam! Now!" Sam went to argue but the look on Dean's face didn't allow for rebuttals, "I'll be right behind you, now move it."

Dean watched as his brother disappeared down the ladder, hoping that it was the right decision and that there weren't a dozen Navy Seals waiting for him at the bottom of it. Dean started getting anxious, the boots were getting real damn close and Sam still wasn't at the end of the ladder – why did there have to be so much of that damn kid?

"Move your ass Sasquatch!" Dean called (softly) down the ladder. As Sam finally reached the bottom and moved out of the way Dean tucked his gun in the back of his jeans, straddled the ladder and, not bothering with the rungs, slid all the way down in one smooth movement. He got to the bottom as Sam was staring at him with a mix of awe and 'huh?'. "Take a memo Sam. That's what a guy in a hurry looks like."

"Shuddup." Sam replied with a shake of his head, "So now what? Any bright ideas?"

Dean retrieved his gun and picked a direction at random, "I'll let you know," he answered with a smirk.

After several minutes and several variations of 'where the hell are we going' the brothers reached a set of stairs and at the end of it Dean spied... an idea.

"Hey Sammy, you know how you're always the one that says we need to look the part when we're impersonating people of authority..."

Sam gave Dean his 'what's your point look".

Dean pointed at his idea, "What's say I take a page out of your book?"

Sam finally spied what had Dean grinning like Cheshire cat and rolled his eyes. It was a good idea.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this..." Sam muttered under his breath as he followed his brother down the hallway.

***

It was a good idea, but not perfect, Dean thought as he stowed his excess clothing and his handgun in a well hidden corner of the laundry room. These ridiculous navy jumpsuits just weren't made for concealing weapons, he thought as he did his best to pull the jumpsuit legs over his boots (and the knife strapped to his ankle).

"Alright, this'll just have to do." Dean said as he turned to find Sam wearing the most pathetic look imaginable – and a jumpsuit that was two sizes too small for him, even after trading in his sneakers in for an old pair of black boots. "I take that back," Dean continued, holding back the loudest laughter known to mankind, "this is awesome."

"It's not funny, Dean." Sam retorted, his face turning a wonderful shade of red.

"Oh, I gotta disagree there Sasquatch – this is extremely funny."

Sam was too embarrassed to argue the point further, "I couldn't find anything with longer legs." He replied lamely.

"And here I was thinking you put it on simply for my amusement," Dean replied, unable to wipe the smirk from his face.

"Dean. Shut it. Alright?" Sam begged.

"Mhmm..." was all Dean managed as he choked on his laughter.

"Come on..." Sam spat as he trudged past his brother and exited the laundry.

Dean chuckled to himself as he caught up with Sam but it slowly faded (the smirk did not) as the seriousness of their current situation returned to the forefront of his mind.

"Ok. Well, I had the last idea. Now it's your turn geek boy. What do we do now?"

"Well," Sam said with a slight sigh as he looked down the seemingly endless corridor, "I guess we just try to stay off their radar until we can figure out where we are... how long it's going to be until we get back on land..."

Sam's rambling were interrupted by the slightest... well, it could be best described as a "whoomp", and it was accompanied by a strange feeling, similar to be hit by a small wave at the beach... but not quite.

"What was that?!" Dean demanded, his hands immediately finding the nearest wall and bracing himself for the worst.

"I have no idea."

"Was it a sea mine? Did something explode?" Dean asked, his voice becoming laced with panic.

"I don't know Dean. Come on, let's keep moving."

"Sam."

"Dean, come on..."

Sam turned back to his brother who was waving him over. Dean's hand had happened upon a porthole, through which he was looking intently, unable to tear himself away.

"I know Dean, it's the ocean, it's best not to think about it, come on..."

"No dude. Look." Dean murmured, directing his brother to the next available porthole. "Look."

Sam sighed and reluctantly peered out of the window to placate his brother. Several seconds later he remembered to breath.

"That's not the ocean."

"Dude. _Dude._ Duuude..." Dean reached out his spare hand for his brothers' shoulder in an effort to ground himself in some sort of reality.

"That's not the ocean..." Sam repeated, the colour draining from his face.

"Dude..." Dean whispered, his smile widening, "We're in space."


	4. Chapter 4

***

Sam couldn't pry his hands off the metal wall.

"We're in space..." he murmured for the twentieth time while Dean jumped around like a kid on Red Bull behind him. "It's not possible..."

A hand reached out and spun him around.

"Sammy... We. Are. In. Outer. Space."

"Yeah... I got the memo..." Sam murmured trying to regain his composure as the 'how's, 'why's, and the 'how-the-hell's chased each other around in his head. A thought emerged from the confusion and he turned to face his overexcited older brother.

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

Dean stood still, but with so much adrenaline coursing through his system it was difficult.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't stand to fly in an airplane... so how the hell can you be so... _happy... _about being stuck_... on a spaceship?!"_

"I don't know," Dean replied unable to stop smiling, "I just always wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up."

That was a lie, but if now wasn't the perfect time to pretend he didn't know what was.

"I thought you always wanted to be a fireman?"

"Shuddup."

Sam laughed to himself and straightened his too-small jumpsuit as he slowly accepted the fact that he was on a spaceship – in space. _Now what?_

"Okay..." he started and stopped. He had no idea where to go from there.

"So..."

"What are you two doing down here?"

Sam and Dean spun around and faced a man carrying a clipboard and wearing a frustrated expression.

"Uhh..." was Sam's reply.

"This area has been restricted to everyone but the tech and engineering teams. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Umm..." was Dean's contribution but after remembering the bits and pieces of conversation he had overheard since they arrived on the spaceship he decided to take a flying leap, "We were told to check out a possible airlock malfunction in the... 302 bays. But we're new so... we got a little lost." Dean added, attempting a look he hoped was perceived as embarrassment.

The tech officer pinched his face up a little bit more and glared at the 'newbies' before him.

"The 302 bays are five levels down and about 100 meters that way..." he retorted, pointing behind them, "And if there had been any sort of malfunction with them I would have been notified. And they sure as hell wouldn't have sent crew members new to the Daedalus to investigate..."

The officer trailed off as he regarded Sam in his ill-fitting jumpsuit, his eyes then fell to the name badge.

"...I thought I heard that Watson was still in the infirmary after breaking his ankle?" The officer stood in front of Sam and glared at him accusingly, "Who the hell are you?"

"Uhh... Hey! He's getting away!" Sam pointed behind him. The man, knowing himself to be anything but an idiot, wasn't going to fall for the 'behind you!' ruse and just scowled at Sam but when he heard the hurried footsteps trailing off before him he reluctantly turned around to find that Dean was no longer there. He turned back to Sam only to find himself alone in the corridor.

"Caldwell's going to blame me for this, I just know it..."

***

It took Sam a little longer than he had hoped to meet back up with Dean, but he turned the last corner and there was Dean leaning against a wall completely casual whilst Sam attempted to catch his breath. Dean's hand signals – performed behind the obnoxious head of the tech guy - had been rushed and it was only once Sam had taken all the turns he thought Dean had told him to when it occurred to Sam that Dean would be following his own instructions and was no doubt waiting for him in the next corridor over.

"That was close." Dean commented.

"Close? That wasn't 'close', Dean, that was 'made'. It's only a matter of time before he gets word back to security about us."

"I knew I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque..." Dean muttered under his breath.

Sam shook his head in despair at his brothers' total lack of concern for their current situation.

"You've just got a smart assed comment for every occasion, don't you?"

Dean opened his mouth to retort but was drowned out by the wail of alarms and a voice of authority warning the crew of the Daedalus of two intruders that had somehow made it aboard. They were to be considered hostile and not to be approached by anyone other than security detail, which no doubt were being sent out in numbers and heavily armed as the Winchester brothers stood there listening to the announcement.

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean expectantly. He raised an eyebrow which was interpreted by an abashed Dean as _'well..?'_.

"Meep-meep?"

***


	5. Chapter 5

***

Dean and Sam wandered aimlessly through the identical corridors of the spaceship and after backtracking for the ninth time Sam had had enough.

"This is ridiculous, Dean!" Sam hissed, "We can't keep walking around in circles like this."

"We're not walking around in circles!" Dean spat back, averse to having his masterful sense of direction challenged.

Sam pointed to a group of numbers painted in typical military issue spray painted stencilling.

"This is the third time we've been passed this door."

"They all look the same…" came Dean's retort but it lacked its usual cocky edge because Dean knew perfectly well that wandering around like this wasn't getting them anywhere – not metaphorically or literally. "What else are we supposed to do, Sam?"

"I don't know Dean. We're on a space ship… in space. It's not like if we find an exit sign we're actually going to be able to walk out of here."

"Hey! Do you think we'll get to wear space suits?"

"Dean. Focus." Sam cut his brother off before he got started, "We have no idea where we are, whether this thing is even heading towards Earth… We could be going anywhere in the galaxy… we could be in space for months – years even…"

Sam went quiet as the metaphorical gravity of the situation hit him. Their father's training had provided them with contingency plans and emergency extraction procedures for every possible scenario… except this one and Sam just felt lost. Dean could see 'imminent freak out' written all over his little brothers' face and it unnerved him. He was the older brother; he was supposed to know what to do but above all else he was supposed to look after Sammy. He very quickly came to the only conclusion that offered them a way home.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing we can do…"

Before Sam could stop him Dean was off and running after the echo of heavy footsteps.

"Hey!" he called out to whoever it was just around the corner out of sight.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?" Sam whispered fiercely, trailing close behind.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Dean and Sam turned the corner and came face to face with the most un-military person they'd seen, which was odd for a spaceship full of military personnel. Actually, being a spaceship, Sam realised, how the hell would they know what was odd and what was normal?

"What?" grunted the dreadlocked warrior (as far as Dean could see there was no other word that would describe him properly).

"Uh..." Dean faltered, "We were, uh... we were looking for the, um... bridge?"

The intimidating man smiled at them curiously, something that said _'did you really think I wouldn't know you didn't belong here?'_. Lucky the smile said all that because its wearer certainly didn't. He just moved his feet to a more comfortable fighting stance and drew the coolest looking gun Dean had ever laid eyes on.

Dean grumbled in defeat and put his hands on the back of his head, Sam followed suit wondering what the hell Dean had hoped to achieve. Alright, so Dean hadn't thought it through that much. All he had wanted was, basically, to get caught and have him and Sam sent back home, to have their feet back on solid _Earth._ And whatever way made that happen without them being riddled full of bullets was a good plan in Dean's mind.

Sam pursed his lips and swore he was going to punch Dean for getting him into this at the next available opportunity. Dean just offered the man a weak smile.

"Take us to your leader?"

***


	6. Chapter 6

***

Colonel Caldwell, with all his years of experience in the field, was used to dealing with unexpected things, but the presence of these two civilians on his ship had thrown him for a loop.

He thought he had an opening line but lost it quickly and resorted to looking over his 'prisoners' for the tenth time. He sat opposite them at a metal table inside what was essentially an interrogation room, though it had never had to live up to its name before today.

_What the hell are these two kids doing on my ship? _Colonel Caldwell asked himself, turning the locator remote found on their persons once they had been searched.

"Ok... let's start from the beginning... where did you find this?" He held up the remote and waited as the two men glanced at each other trying to persuade the other to talk first. The glances became murmurs which became hisses and cussing. Eventually the taller one jabbed the older one in the ribs – an impressive feat whilst ones hands were handcuffed to a table – and glared at him. His coercion worked as the older one sighed and looked warily at the Colonel before answering.

"We found it in our dads' storage locker," he admitted quietly.

"And how did your father come to find it?"

"We don't know," replied the younger one, "We were looking for something else... saw that, thought it looked a bit out of place."

"Do you have a phone number or an address where your father can be reached so that we ask him where he found it?"

"Dad could be in a million different places by now," replied the older one, the tone of his voice tinged with annoyance.

"And what do you mean by that exactly?"

"His ashes were scattered on the wind," came the terse reply.

"Sorry to hear that..."

"Whatever."

Col. Caldwell ignored the young man's hostility and pressed forward with his 'interrogation'.

"What happened after that?"

"We... ah..." the younger one took over as the older one seemed reluctant to participate in the conversation any further, "We were trying to figure out what it was. We ended up... grappling over it. We both had a hand on it when we heard the button click... Next thing we know..." his handcuffed hands gestured at his current surroundings.

"So..." Col. Caldwell tried to come to terms with the simplicity of the incident, "You found the remote – not knowing what it was or what it did – and before you knew it..."

"Pretty much."

"Do you have any idea where you are right now?"

"In space."

"On a yellow submarine."

Col. Caldwell shot the elder man a look before turning his focus back to the taller man; the only one capable of a civil conversation.

"You've found yourselves aboard the USS Daedalus, a deep space carrier. Anything more than that is highly classified. Hell, _even that_ was highly classified, but I figured you needed to be told something before your heads exploded with too many questions."

"So we're really in outer space?"

"Yes you are. I can't tell you exactly where..."

"Highly classified..." the elder one retorted unimpressed, "I suppose it'd be too much to ask if you can just... turn this hunk of metal around and drop us off back at Earth?"

"I'm afraid we're not in a position to turn back. Although your materialisation aboard my ship needs to be treated as suspicious and as a potential threat to my ship and my crew... I'm afraid there are bigger and badder things out there that I need to worry about."

"You mean like aliens?"

Now he had the older ones attention.

"I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of extraterrestrial life forms – be they friendly or hostile."

The elder one was no doubt about to make another snide remark when the door opened and one of his security personnel entered the room carrying the intruders belongings and placed them in front of the Colonel. As he flicked through the pile of clothes both men audibly cringed and Colonel Caldwell soon discovered why.

"So... I suppose it'd be too much to ask for you boys to show me a licence to carry these handguns?"

Both men avoided eye contact. Col. Caldwell placed the guns to the side and handed the clothes back to the nearest security officer.

"Until I figure out how to deal with the unique problem you have presented to me you will be detained in the holding cells. Your clothes will be returned to you, your weapons will not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a ship to run."

Col. Caldwell exited the interrogation room and made his way back to the bridge, utilising every second of his walk back to contemplate the current situation. He slumped into his seat and stared out at the shining sea of darkness spread out before him.

"Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

"As soon as we're in range we need to contact Atlantis and advise them of our situation. Tell them to prep a holding cell."

"Yes, sir."

***


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, so I've got an update for y'all! Yay! BUT... I've finally figured out where abouts in the Stargate Atlantis timeline this takes place and that's right at the end of Midway ( ep 4x17 I think), and as such I had to make a few changes. This chapter should read just fine but if you'd like to start over from the beginning (edits take place in chapters 2, and then 4-6) it might save you being confused/cranky with me when I manage to post the next chapter.

Anywho, thanks for all the comments, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

***

Sam stared up at the bunk above him, Dean, in turn, stared up at the ceiling of their cell. It was small but clean, no doubt through lack of use, and had two highly trained marine types standing outside the door. _Put in a television, a nudie girl calendar, call it home_, Dean thought as he counted the studs in the ceiling for the tenth time. He was waiting for Sam to say something, to yell at him, but he was doing a great job at holding it in.

Eventually the metal door was pushed open and Sam and Dean stood together in front of the bunk beds to greet... their dinner, a bland military meal served on military issue metal tray. They sat together on Sam's bunk bed and ate in silence, apart from the occasional grimace from Sam at the inedibility of his food and the _omnomnom_ sounds emanating from Dean's constantly full mouth. When the food was gone the silence was once again complete and when it got a too much for Dean he gave up and climbed back up to his bed. When he was comfortable he heard a sigh from the bed beneath him.

_About friggin time,_ Dean thought.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"If we make it home..."

"When we make it home." Dean said with absolute big brother certainty.

"When we make it home..." Sam repeated, not as confident as his brother, "it's not going to be in time to save that family is it?"

The thought hadn't escaped Dean's attention and he had already prepared a decent reply.

"Don't worry about it Sammy. When we don't check in with him Bobby's bound to think something's up and retrace our steps. He'll finish the job for us."

Sam grunted, not quite believing it.

"Anyway, that's not what I most worried about."

"What? What else is there to worry about?" Sam asked urgently.

"I'm just worried about my baby being out there all alone. Bobby better find her and keep her safe til I get back."

Dean couldn't see it but he knew he'd made his brother smile.

***

With a lack of windows it was difficult to tell how much time had passed, and all their meals were the same boring crap so it was difficult to differentiate breakfast from dinner. At best guess the brothers would say they had been locked up in there for "a while". It wasn't too bad at first; they caught up on a few years lost sleep, talked until Sam had to beg Dean to stop sharing conquest stories, they even attempted some exercise in the tiny amount of space allotted to them. But eventually the boredom was inescapable and they resorted to lying on their respective bunks playing road trip games, which they had never bothered playing whilst on the road before because they were stupid and a waste of time, but seeing as they had nothing but time and needed something to help them keep the insanity at bay they were willing to try anything. Eye Spy was quickly abandoned, as was Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, eventually they found a nice rhythm with the 'A-Z Game'.

"Alicia Silverstone."

"Belladonna."

"Cate Blanchett."

"Demi Delia."

"Emily Blunt."

"Faith Leon."

"Grace Kelly."

"Honey Wilder."

"Dean! Do all your answers _have_ to be porn stars?"

"Do you wanna go back to playing Truth or Dare?"

"... ... Isabella Rossellini."

"Jenna Jameson."

***

To say that Colonel Sheppard was glad to see Ronon was an understatement. After one day with Kavanagh and Bill, and several days of solitude, he was ecstatic to be on board the Daedalus heading back to Atlantis.

"Oh – and I passed my interview at the I.O.A."

"Really?"

"Yeah – they said they like me."

"Well, what's not to like?"

Ronon chuckled to himself but it faded away as he remembered something that might have been of interest.

"Something weird happened when we left Earth."

"Weird how?"

"Two humans beamed themselves aboard just before we went into hyperspace."

"That is weird. How'd they manage that?"

"Don't know, an accident maybe? Apparently they didn't know what they were doing."

"Wait, apparently? Nobody's talked to them to figure this out?"

"Well, Caldwell talked to them for a few minutes when I brought them in, but they've been locked up in one of the holding cells since then."

"You brought them in?"

"Yeah."

"They seem dangerous to you?"

"I think they could handle themselves in a fight, but I don't think they'd try fighting their way out of here – they're a long way from home with no place to go."

"Yeah... let's go say hello."


	8. Chapter 8

Hi guys, apologies for the delay on this. I know that there's dozens of you who've marked this as a favourite and no doubt hate waiting for updates, but I'm afraid I'm not a very good writer. My muse comes and goes, and sometimes my graphics muse takes over, and sometimes real life just drains me of any creative ambition. So, I am sorry for making you wait, and I really do appreciate you taking the time out to read my story and comment on it. Thanks a million :)

And now, without further ado...

* * *

After a quick pit stop in the galley to obtain some food not sealed in little packets, Sheppard and Ronon made their way down to the holding cells. Sheppard was busy working on his third PJ&B sandwich and wasn't paying attention, but with Ronon leading the way why bother? The Satedean's memory and sense of direction was better than breadcrumbs which, incidentally, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard was leaving in his wake.

Sheppard dusted the last of them off his hands as Ronon stopped at an intersection and pointed down the hallway at the two men on guard outside the door, "There."

"Thanks," John said with a small smirk, "I would never have guessed. Hey guys," Sheppard made his way over to the guards, "How 'bout you take a break, huh?"

It took a minute for them to glance awkwardly at each other before electing one of them to speak on their behalf, "We have orders. Two men at all times, 6 hour shifts. We're not due to be relieved for another two and a half hours. Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"Well, it was just a request, but I can make it an order if you need it to be."

Sheppard would have liked to have believed that it was the men's response to a higher authority that made them cooperate without too much fuss, but judging from their worried upward glances and the fact that Ronon was standing behind him looking intimidating without trying… Yeah, he highly doubted it was his rank that scared them.

"Okay then," he said, more to himself than anyone else, as the guards wandered off, "Let's go make some new friends."

---

They had been playing the A-Z game for so long that Dean had even resorted to using 'proper' actresses for answers after running out of porn stars. Alright, so he hadn't run out of porn stars… just names for them.

'Brittany Spears."

Sam laughed.

"What? She was a movie, it counts!"

"Whatever you say Dean. Uhhh…" but before Sam could counter with 'Carmen Electra', which Dean would kick himself for not saying at a previous opportunity, both brothers sat up in their bunks and listened to the muffled voices behind their cell door. Sam stood up and Dean hopped down off their respective beds and glanced at each other.

"It's a bit too soon after the last meal, isn't it?" Dean queried.

"Yeah…"

"Maybe they're going to upgrade our rooms? Penthouse suite?" Dean joked.

Sam couldn't help but smile, a smile that disappeared as soon the door started to open.

The brothers stared at the friendly face before them, not quite willing to believe the strange contrast between the man and his surroundings, most notably the 6'4" gun-toting hunter-type standing in the background.

"Hi there. I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard with the United States Airforce." The man who introduced himself as Sheppard looked at them expectantly, before raising an eyebrow and leaning in, "And you are…?"

"Oh, sorry, um, I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean." Sam held out a hand, an automatic reaction, one which received a quizzical look from his brother. "What? He was being polite."

Sheppard smiled at them and shook Sam's hand. "Nice to meet you Sam. Dean."

"And if he was being 'sexy' I'm sure you'd have flirted right back." Dean muttered.

Sam froze, glared at his brother, and then he glanced at Colonel Sheppard, "Could I have my hand back? I need to hit my brother."

"Sure thing." Sheppard said with a smirk, releasing the kids hand, watching as it curled into a fist and smacked Dean in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Well, then… now that we're all acquainted…"

"No, we're not." Dean interjected, rubbing the feeling back into his shoulders, "Who's the Sasquatch?"

Sheppard turned to the man behind him, "You didn't introduce yourself? That's a bit rude," he commented casually. After waiting the allotted time for a Ronon response and receiving none John spoke for him, "That's Ronon. He's not much of a talker."

"No kidding." Dean muttered.

"Now, where were we? Right… Let's start with something easy: where are you boys from?"

"Earth." Dean snapped before Sam could stop him, "But aren't we all?"

"No." Ronon replied. Before Dean and Sam had a chance to ask a follow up question John steered the conversation back to somewhere safer.

"Where abouts on Earth? Me? I've been all over the world, but my last post was in Antarctica." He said with a note of pride.

"Uhh…" Sam started, having issues tearing his imagination away from the fact that the tall dark guy with the glowing gun wasn't from Earth, "We, uh, we didn't really stay in one place for much. We're kinda from all over, I guess.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Second question, how did you get here, onto this ship?"

"C'mon, we've already been through this with the other Colonel guy." Dean spat.

"Fair enough." Sheppard replied, not wanting to have the conversation halted so quickly, "Question three , where were you _before_ you were here?"

"Just outside of Buffalo." Sam replied before Dean had a chance to.

"Buffalo, huh? Cool. Now that's something I should have arranged for you to bring back with you!" Sheppard directed at Ronon, "Buffalo wings would have really hit the spot right about now," he mused, his imagination wandering away before the weird looks brought him back. "Sorry, um… Question four,"

"Colonel Sheppard."

A voice was heard from nowhere in particular that had three of them spinning around for the source. Ronon however simply moved his eyes to the small speaker/camera located in the hallway outside the cell.

"God? Is that you?" Sheppard asked, staring at the ceiling.

"I think it's Colonel Caldwell." Ronon offered helpfully.

Sheppard turned to Ronon to explain the joke but thought better of it, "Thanks."

"Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes, Colonel? Something wrong with the radios?"

"Not that I'm aware of," came the reply. Sheppard smirked, one to Caldwell. "Colonel Sheppard can I ask what you think you're doing, dismissing my men and interrogating my prisoners?"

"Uh, well… I'd say you have a pretty good idea of what I think I'm doing."

"And yet protocol would dictate that you should have reported to me in order to be debriefed on the… recent situation."

"Well… You see, I thought, that since we were going to be on… this ship," he said cautiously, unsure of what had to be kept 'highly classified' whilst talking with the intergalactic stowaways – at least in front of Caldwell, "for a few more days at least that we'd have plenty of time for that debriefing later, but come on Colonel, stowaways from Earth. How often do I get a chance to shoot the breeze people from home, ask about the weather… and who won the Superbowl." he said with a smirk.

Soon after Colonel Caldwell's exasperated "Colonel!" came Dean's hushed "Pittsburg!"

"Really," replied the very intrigued Colonel Sheppard. As he went to open his mouth to ask a follow up question, God started talking to him again.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is my ship and I am the ranking officer on it. I am ordering you to report to the bridge so that you can debrief me about the Midway situation. Please return the prisoners to their cell. I'll radio for some men to stand watch outside their door."

"That's little bit excessive, don't you think, Colonel? The only real danger here is that they're going to go stir crazy sitting in that cell. How's about we let them out, get some… not so fresh air, maybe get a real meal from the mess…"

"Those men are not going anywhere without an armed escort."

"If I get Ronon to be their babysitter, would that be satisfactory?"

"…Yes, I suppose it would."

"Good, that's settled then. I'll head up to the bridge now."

And with the deal made God terminate his transmission.

"Alright," Sheppard said, addressing the two stowaways as he began walking away, "Now, you two behave yourselves."

"Sheppard." Ronon said in his 'I won't disobey an order so you better make it an order or I'm not doing it' voice.

"Come on Ronon, it'll be a cake walk. And if they give you any trouble – I give you permission to shoot them."

Bug-eyed with fear-of-Ronon (quite similar to fear-of-Ronon's-gun) the brothers watched the Colonel turn a corner and disappear out of sight, only to reappear a fraction of a second later.

"Put it on 'stun' Ronon," he said. And then, going off Ronon's smirk, "I mean it."

Ronon kept smirking as he pulled his gun from its holster, spun it around - accompanied by various clicking and whirling type noises – and reholstered it. Sam and Dean stood gob smacked, feeling as though outta be paying to see something that cool.

"Alright, that's better." Sheppard said as he went to leave for the second time, "I'll meet see you in the mess hall in 30."

Sam and Dean watched Sheppard leave and then slowly turned to meet the gaze of the dreadlocked gargantuan, who in turn was looking down at them. After a few seconds of staring Ronon broke free and started walking down the corridor.

"Come on, I'll take you to the mess hall."

Sam and Dean fell in behind him, quietly obedient, afraid that one wrong word and they'd be on the receiving end of a blast from Ronon's gun… whatever Ronon's gun fired, sure didn't look like it took bullets.

"Hey, you guys are from Earth, right?"

"Uh… yeah."

"What's a cake walk?"

"It's where you go for a walk with the specific purpose of getting cake." Dean replied before he could stop himself.

Ronon stopped and turned to them, staring intently, thinking on Dean's reply. Eventually he processed it and nodded in acceptance.

"I like cake," came the Satedan's reply, as he turned around and picked up the pace.


End file.
